


The Place Where The Wild Things Are

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: ABDL, Alternate Universe, F/F, Incest, Mind Control, Non-Sexual Age Play, Sex Work, Thumb-sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 23:53:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18727417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Allison gatecrashes a party, and runs into someone unexpected.





	The Place Where The Wild Things Are

**Author's Note:**

> Assume this is an AU where Allison didn't run off to California quite as quickly as she did. 
> 
> This idea jumped into my head when I woke up, and is partially based off of a _Dresden Files_ fic that I read back in the days of LiveJournal. I do apologize for any roughness. 
> 
> A million billion thanks to my beta reader, who is an angel!

Allison Hargreeves was not a very good dominatrix. 

She knew this in her heart of hearts, even if she would have denied it if pressed. She knew that the Mistress of the House she worked at put her up front to flirt with the customers, or sent her out to fish for the horny lifestyle subs when there were play parties at the club next door. She didn’t have the attitude to do much more than lure, though - she’d try to play a role for some random horny dude, and… well, fall flat. She was tall and alluring, too, but she didn’t _care_ enough to pretend she felt anything for someone she didn’t. She had liked the idea - she’d had images of herself in leather and latex, wielding a riding crop while a handsome man looked adoringly up at her.

It turned out, it was a lot of work. She couldn’t just rumor people - there was actual artistry involved. She’d read in a magazine that all people hoping to make it into Hollywood should do _some_ kind of dominatrix work. Judging by how Allison was doing at the dungeon… she was pretty much fucked as soon as she got to California. But she’d get better. 

_She would_.

* * *

“Quiet night tonight,” Allison said, adjusting her stance behind the counter.

“There’s an event at the club next door,” Marcella said, waving one long nailed hand in the direction of the door that separated the professional dungeon from the BDSM club they shared a wall with. “All the randos desperate for freebies are probably lurking around there shooting cow eyes at the lifestyle dommes.” 

“It’s not that kind of event,” said Ariadne, popping her gum. The bright pink of it was incongruous against her latex dress and severe makeup, but she grinned at Allison anyway. Ariadne was nice - always sweet to Allison. “One of those Littles events.”

“Littles?” Allison’s eyebrows knit together, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, self conscious in spite of herself. She wore a mask to protect her future career prospects, which she knew got her laughed at, and she still felt awkward in her too-high heels and her leather corset. 

“Oh,” said Marcella, and she wrinkled her nose. “Those people always give me the creeps.”

“I think they’re cute,” said Ariadne, defensive. 

“Wait until they ask you to change their pissy diapers,” said Marcella. “All the ones I’ve met have been _weird_.”

“Diapers?” Allison was floundering, like always. She was just so… new to all of this.

“Yeah,” said Marcella. “Littles are those weirdos who like to wear diapers and pretend to be little kids.”

“What, like… pedophiles?” Was that even _legal_?

“Nah,” said Ariadne. “It’s all made up. They just like to… you know, pretend.”

“Right,” said Allison. “Like those guys who like to wear those leather dog hoods and walk around on all fours?”

“Yeah, exactly,” said Ariadne. “Same idea.”

“What do you, like… get out of wearing diapers and peeing yourself?” Allison tried to wrap her head around that. She’d been grateful to get away from all of the trappings of her childhood, grateful to get away from her own weird upbringing. 

“Some people are just weird,” Marcella said, with some authority.

“It’s dead tonight,” Ariadne said. “You want to go check it out? You can talk to some of them, see if we can drum up any business.”

“I don’t want to do any business with Littles,” said Marcella, and there was a hint of whine in her voice. “They’re so needy.”

“They also pay well,” said Ariadne, in her boss voice. “Secret, go see if you can drum up some clients.” 

Allison - whose stage name was Secret - nodded. “Is it okay if I, uh… if I talk to any of them?”

“Go for it,” said Ariadne, and she made a vague shooing motion. “I’ll send someone over to pick you up if I need to.” 

“Right,” said Allison, and she made her way towards the big door separating the club from the dungeon. She know she at least looked the part of dominatrix, in her high heels, her hobble skirt, her corset. She’d drum up some business. She was good at that.

* * *

There were people milling about the dungeon, talking quietly. She saw more color than usual - a lot of onesies, a few pairs of footed pajamas, overalls. Lots of cartoon characters. It was so different from what Allison was used to at these sorts of events - she’d peeked in, and seen a lot more leather, latex. A lot more _naked_ , come to think of it. She got a few sidelong looks, but she was mostly ignored. She was used to that, to a certain extent - around here, dommes dressed up like she was were practically set dressing. It was refreshing, in a weird way - she was free to observe. 

It was all so… normal, which was utterly surreal in its own way. There were adults in onesies, in t-shirts and diapers, in footed pajamas and frilly dresses. So many colors, so many soft fabrics. She was a little envious, as she took her mincing little steps, watching the Littles running around. Truth be told, it reminded her of other kink parties she’d seen - less rope, less leather, but the same amount of people talking in small clusters, or doing activities. She saw legos, blocks, action figures, plushies. There was a woman in a corner dressed like a kindergarten teacher, reading to a group of Littles, who were all staring at her with rapt expressions. So normal, and it felt weird to think of it like that. She wandered from room to room, watching the people. The bright colors were incongruous with the setting, but… well. Allison was honestly a little jealous. It looked like _fun_. 

She wasn’t going to drum up any interest, though. These folks didn’t seem the type who’d be interested in any of the services her dungeon provided. She couldn’t imagine Ariadne or Marcela or Angelique being up to read to someone, or tickle them. … Allison wasn’t sure she’d be so against it, though. It seemed simpler than some of the stuff that she’d been asked to do, since she’d started this job. 

She was wandering down one particular corridor when she ran into a lone Little, looking lost. The Little looked up at her, all big brown eyes and pale skin. The Little was wearing blue footie pajamas printed with rubber duckies, and she had a picture book clutched in one hand. 

And it was Vanya. 

Allison hadn’t seen her sister in years, but she’d have known Vanya’s face _anywhere_. 

“Excuse me?” Vanya’s voice was very quiet.

Allison opened her mouth, to ask Vanya why she was here, to comment that she’d never imagine Vanya being into this kind of thing. And then she closed it, and she just looked down at her sister. There was no recognition in Vanya’s face, and she just looked small and scared, biting her lip. 

“Hi, sweetie,” said Allison, and she kept her voice low. Vanya wouldn’t recognize her, right? Not with the mask and the… everything else.

Vanya looked up at her, and she was frowning, “Do I… have we met?” Vanya was losing some of that sweet vulnerability, replacing it with the usual guarded look that Allison knew so well.

“I heard a rumor that you don’t recognize me with a mask on,” said Allison, on impulse, before she had a chance to think. Her voice echoed a little bit, the same way it always did when she used her power. She watched Vanya’s eyes go cloudy, then clear. 

“Oh,” said Vanya, and her voice was quiet. “I guess not. Sorry. I’m, uh… this is my first time at this kind of…” Vanya trailed off, and she stared down at her feet. Allison looked at them too, and she could see the way that Vanya’s toes were curling in the feet of her pajamas. 

“Are you lost, sweetheart?” Allison kept her voice gentle, and she leaned down - as much as she could, in the corset and the hobble skirt. She was still towering over Vanya, but she was taller than Vanya in her bare feet, let alone in these heels. 

“I… there’s a lot of people,” Vanya said quietly. “I’ve never, uh… I’ve never done this kind of thing with other people before.” 

_She’s done it by herself_ , thought Allison, and the image of Vanya in these same footie pajamas by herself hit her like a punch to the gut. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling about it, but she was definitely feeling… things. 

“Are you nervous about playing with the other kids?” Allison held her hand out to Vanya, and Vanya looked at it, then took it hesitantly.

“A little bit,” Vanya said. “I’ve… I don’t have much experience with them. Other kids, I mean.” 

Allison’s heart ached, and she bit her tongue to resist apologizing. She knew she was at fault for that, at least a little bit. But she could make it up to Vanya, right? “If you’re feeling nervous around the other kids, you don’t have to play with them,” she told Vanya, her tone very serious.

“I dunno,” Vanya said, and she pulled her hand free, crossing her arms across her chest. She looked so small. “I came to this to… y’know, meet people. And… now I’m too nervous to meet anyone.” 

“You met me,” Allison said, and she smiled at Vanya. 

“I don’t know your name,” said Vanya. 

“I’m Secret,” said Allison. 

“Oh,” said Vanya. “I’m Va - Marshmallow.” 

“Marshmallow,” said Allison, and she bit her lip, as a whole bunch of feelings washed over her. “Do you like peanut butter too?”

Vanya gave her a strange look. “What?”

“I, uh… I knew someone who liked peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches,” said Allison. 

“I did too,” said Vanya, and then her face went very sad. “But I… haven’t seen him in a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” said Allison, and there was a complicated sort of war raging in her chest - _share your grief together_ but also _I don’t want her to know it’s me_. “So you don’t want to play with the other kids?”

“I’m scared I’ll be no good at it,” Vanya said, very quietly. “They’ll make fun of me, or… or ignore me.” Her lower lip was wobbling, and that was a new one - Vanya had never been especially emotionally expressive, but she looked like she was going to start crying. 

“I’m sure they’re all very nice, and they’d love to play with you,” said Allison. She wanted to take the mask off, to gather Vanya in her arms and tell Vanya she was loved. But no. This wasn’t the time or the place. 

“I think they’re done with story time,” Vanya said, and now she was definitely on the edge of crying. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t -”

“I’ll read to you,” said Allison impulsively. “If you want. You’ve got a book - we can do some one on one story time, if you’d like?” Was Allison even _allowed_ to do that? She wasn’t sure, but there wasn’t anything she wanted more in the world right now. 

“If… I mean…” Vanya looked down at her feet again.

Allison held her hand out. “I’ll read your book to you, sweetheart. If you’re up to it, you can go play with the other kids after.” 

Vanya took Allison’s hand, and she nodded, biting her lip. With her hair loose around her face, she looked so sweet that Allison just wanted to kiss her, and that was… unexpected. 

Hm. 

* * *

Allison found a room with a big, leather couch. She tried not to think about the last time it had been cleaned, or what it had been used as, or for. Instead, she paused, then looked over at Vanya. “Is it okay if I get a little bit more comfortable?”

Vanya, in her footie pajamas, looked at her curiously, then shrugged. “Uh… sure.” 

Allison unzipped her hobble skirt carefully, pushing it down the length of her body. She sat down heavily on the couch, letting her legs stretch out. She carefully unbuckled her heels, and she flexed her ankles, curling her toes. She was wearing nice panties, a garter belt, the whole “alluring” package - it made her look that much more different from all the Littles. From Vanya, in her ducky pajamas. 

“Oh,” Vanya said. “Are you, uh…” She looked faintly nervous. 

“Do you want to come sit with me on the couch, or do you want to sit on the floor?” Allison had never read to a little kid before, let alone a Little. She’d never even _heard_ of a Little before today, yet here she was. There was a knot of anticipation in the center of her stomach, and she didn’t know what it was for, except it was there, like a ball of hot aluminum. 

“What’s the… right way to do this?” Vanya was still holding her book - it was a paperback, and it looked like the glossy covers were bending, just a bit. 

“There’s no one right way to do this, Marshmallow,” Allison said. “What do you want to do?”

“... I want to sit next to you,” said Vanya, and she climbed onto the couch, drawing her knees up to her chest. 

Allison could hear a crinkling noise, and... _oh_. She shot a glance down to Vanya’s lap, and saw a telltale puffiness. _Vanya was wearing a diaper_. Like, an actual diaper. A disposable one, not like the cloth ones that they’d all been put in when they were little. Was Vanya trying to return to some lost childhood she’d never experienced? Did she just… like it? 

Vanya didn’t seem to realize the racing thoughts that were going through Allison’s head - she just looked into Allison’s made up face, and gave her a nervous smile. “Thanks,” she said quietly. “For, uh… for reading to me.” 

“You’re such a cute little Marshmallow,” Allison said impulsively, and she put an arm around Vanya, pulling her closer.

Vanya rested her head on Allison’s breasts - not hard to do, when they were pushed up towards her chin. Allison shifted her arm up to wrap it around her little sister's shoulders. Vanya sighed, and then her eyes were on the page. 

“ _Where The Wild Things Are_ ,” Allison read. Vanya was beginning to relax against her already, her eyes on the page. 

“Wild things,” Vanya echoed, and she was running her fingers along the outline of one of the ducks on her leg. 

“‘The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind and another,’” Allison began reading, and Vanya snuggled in closer.

* * *

Allison read to Vanya slowly, taking time to do the voices, or to ask for Vanya to point to specific things on the page. She could… faintly remember being read to like this. Their mom had been good at reading stories like this, although she’d never read them _this_ book - dear old Dad probably wouldn’t have approved. Probably thought it would make them too rowdy, something like that. Halfway in, Vanya’s face had gone soft, and she was quiet. Then she was sucking her thumb, cuddling into the curve of Allison’s body. It couldn’t have been comfortable - the ribs of her corset were solid, and all the leather wasn’t exactly… giving. She thought of the woman dressed as a kindergarten teacher, and faintly wished she, too, was wearing a soft cardigan and a long skirt.

“They roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth,” read Allison, then; “Do you have a roar, Marshmallow?”

Vanya shook her head, and her face was pressed into Allison’s neck. Her free fingers held on to Allison’s hair - not pulling it or twisting it, just holding on. 

“Are you a quiet little Marshmallow?” Allison nuzzled into the top of Vanya’s head. Her sister smelled like coconut shampoo, and like baby powder. 

Another nod. Vanya was smiling around her thumb, but she was still blushing. 

“You’re soft and sweet and squishy,” said Allison, and she poked Vanya’s belly - the fabric of Vanaya’s pajamas was soft and nubbly, and Vanya’s belly was giving and warm. Allison tucked a piece of hair behind Vanya’s ear, and she traced the shell with her fingertip.

Vanya shuddered, and she blushed harder. “Squishy,” Vanya echoed. 

“Squishy little marshmallow,” said Allison. “Not much of a wild thing, huh?”

Vanya shook her head. “Not wild,” she said.

“That’s okay,” said Allison. “You don’t have to be wild.” She pulled Vanya closer, until her sister was in her lap, and she wrapped her arms around Vanya’s waist, holding the book in Vanya’s lap. Vanya’s diaper was soft against her thighs, and her chin was on Vanya’s cheek. She nuzzled into Vanya’s temple, taking in the comforting scent of her. “Where were we?”

“Roared,” Vanya said quietly, and she pointed to the picture.

“Very good,” said Allison. 

She liked Vanya like this - her sister seemed to have lost that kicked puppy look, and her face was open, sweet. Was this what Vanya would have looked like, if she had a normal childhood? When she was a kid? 

“You’re so pretty,” Allison said, and “Vanya” almost came out, before she snapped her mouth shut. “You’re so pretty,” she said again.

“Nuh uh,” said Vanya, and she cuddled in closer, and her eyes on the book. “Read more, please?”

“Why not?” 

“Why not what?” Vanya was losing some of the easiness of her face now, and she was pulling away from Allison.

“Why aren’t you pretty?” Allison cupped Vanya’s cheek, her thumb against Vanya’s cheekbone, her palm against Vanya’s chin. 

“That’s not for me,” Vanya said firmly, her thumb out of her mouth now. 

“Why not?” 

“It’s just… not,” Vanya said, and she was flushing.

“Is it… is it because you’re too little?” Allison was going off a hunch, but Vanya’s cheeks got even pinker, and she nodded. 

“Too Little,” Vanya said, and her voice was small again. 

“I guess it’s good that you’ve got me to take care of you, huh?” Allison was riding on… what? It was like a high. She wanted… what did she want? She wanted to gather Vanya in her lap, wanted to protect her, wanted to hold Vanya until she could squeeze all of the… unhappiness, the loneliness, the self doubt out of her, until all that was left was Vanya. 

Vanya made a querulous noise, but she stared down at the book. “More, please?” 

“Of course, honey,” said Allison.

She read the rest of the book, doing all of the voices, and Vanya got quieter, more clingy. Her fingers were clutching at Allison’s shirt, and her eyes were getting heavy. 

“Do you think you’re ready to go play with the other kids?” She slid her hand along the softness of Vanya’s footie pajamas, and she wished faintly that she could wear _this_ instead of all the leather. 

“I wanna stay with you,” said Vanya. “Can I?”

“I have to go to work now,” said Allison, because even as wonderful as it was here, there were responsibilities she had to attend to. Mainly she didn’t want to get yelled at.

“Work,” Vanya echoed. 

“But,” said Allison, “I… I work next door. You can come visit me some time, if you’d like?”

“What kind of…” Vanya was coming back to herself, slowly. “Are you…”

“I work at the dungeon next door,” said Allison. “I’m… you can call me Secret. Mistress Secret.”

“Oh,” said Vanya, and her face was falling even more. “Do I… do I owe you anything for this?” 

“No,” said Allison, “no, no, this was… it was nice. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Vanya nodded, but she looked embarrassed nonetheless. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Secret,” said Allison, as Vanya stood up, stretching, rubbing her eyes. Her diaper was crinkling, and Allison clutched at the book to keep from reaching out to feel it. “My name is Secret, I mean. Not that it is a secret.” Now it was Allison’s turn to blush.

Vanya grinned at her, and it lit up her whole face. “Nice to meet you, Secret,” she said.

“I, uh… I hope to see you again here. Some time,” said Allison. She paused. “How do you… how do you guys… how are these parties planned?”

“Oh,” said Vanya, and she cleared her throat. “There’s a, uh… there’s a magazine. It had an advertisement. For the party, I mean.”

“Right,” said Allison. “Could you give me the magazine title? I’m… interested.”

“Oh! Right!” Vanya cleared her throat, and she was rubbing her hands across her thighs, and the soft sound of it was swallowed up by the velvet curtains. “It’s, uh… oh geez, I’m embarrassed to say this. It’s called… _Crinkly Cuties_ , it’s, uh… it’s for people into…” Vanya trailed off. 

“Right,” said Allison. “I’ll definitely be sure to remember that.” 

“Do you need me to help you get dressed? That looks, uh… complicated.” Vanya nervously indicated the crumpled up hobble skirt and the heels.

“If you don’t mind?” Allison stood up, and she looked down at Vanya - she looked so much _sweeter_ , calmer. “You can go play with the other kids - I bet you’d like the blocks, huh? Or maybe to play dress up?”

“... Maybe,” said Vanya, bending down and picking up the skirt that was crumpled up on the floor. She held it open, and Allison leaned against her, stepping into it as it was carefully pulled up her hips, zipped up.

Vanya sat on the floor in front of Allison, and she took a high heel, holding it up to Allison’s foot. Allison slid her foot into it, and then Vanya was buckling her in, one foot, then the other. Allison stood up, and Vanya looked up at her, licking her lips. 

“You’re so little,” Allison said, her hand on top of Vanya’s head.

Vanya stared up at her, and she was blushing even harder. “Thank you,” she mumbled, and shoved her thumb back into her mouth.

“You should get a binky,” Allison said impulsively, as she helped Vanya stand up.

“A what?” Vanya grabbed her book with her free hand, and her thumb was wet against Allison’s thumb. 

“A binky,” said Allison. “You can get sick, sucking your thumb like that.” 

“Oh,” said Vanya. “Sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry with me, Marshmallow,” Allison said, as they made their way back to the other Littles. 

“... Okay,” said Vanya, and she blushed harder. “You have to go now?”

“I have to go now,” Allison agreed, and she bent forward, so they were eye to eye. “Be a good little Marshmallow for me, and I’ll see you next month, at the next party, okay?”

“Okay,” Vanya said. “Or sooner,” she added. “If… if I go to your work.”

“If you go to my work, and ask for Secret,” said Allison, and she gave Vanya a kiss on the cheek, leaving a purple lipstick mark. “I’ll see you later, Marshmallow. Have fun!”

“... Bye,” Vanya said, and Allison could feel her sister’s eyes on her back as she made her way back to the dungeon. 

She shouldn’t have been smiling as hard as she was, and yet.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never done professional dungeon work, and I do apologize for any discrepancies. 
> 
> Trying to figure out how to get the word out on a kink party without FetLife - _harder than I thought_.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] The Place Where The Wild Things Are](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19239154) by [findyourfortunefalling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/findyourfortunefalling/pseuds/findyourfortunefalling)




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